


can i be your blood bag?

by little_jamie_bean



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Betrayal, Blood, Blood Drinking, Friendship, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Vampires, actual vampires, and johnny wants to help that, comedy in the wrong parts, human! johnny, idk how to make it not completed but its not, im just a clown sorry, mark cannot vampire, mark gives no shits about his own health, some nct members are kinda evil here..., vampire! mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_jamie_bean/pseuds/little_jamie_bean
Summary: A fic that I made for no reason that I've been wanting to write for a long time. Serious parts are sadly interrupted by my sense of humor. Also, contains a lot of uncensored swearing. And of course, blood. If that's not your thing, you probably shouldn't read this.
Kudos: 5





	can i be your blood bag?

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially Mark struggling to vamp.

Mark was trying his best.

As a vampire, he's been struggling for the past 213 years. He hates drinking blood.

He hates the idea of drinking someone else's blood without consent, but he doesn't have the heart to ask people he's close to for blood. 

He's forever weak and struggling to survive. He found another kind of thing to live off of, which was blood fruit. 

Its juice was similar to normal blood, although the taste was wildly different and frankly Mark didn't like it, but he had to eat it if he wanted to survive.

Vampire tomes and the such warn that they're terrible for a vampire's health. They don't allow the vampire to function properly and it greatly reduces their lifespan. 

It's often recommended to only eat them as a last resort and to otherwise avoid eating them as a long-term food.

Mark can eat normal food when his bloodthirst isn't so bad, just not a lot, but once it gets too bad, he can't eat. 

He gets his blood fruit in packages from his mother, who lives in a place which grows a lot of blood fruit. They're kind of like grapes, they grow in bunches of about a dozen. One bunch is enough to survive half a month, a month if you really stretch it out. His mother also keeps nagging him to drink a full portion of blood, but Mark always refuses. 

He was horrified when he got the letter from his mom that the blood fruit plants in the neighborhood have perished because of a disease. 

He only had half a bunch left in the fridge... 

He had to drink from someone soon. 

He hated thinking about it. 

He hated it terribly. 

With a vampire bite, there's an about 25% chance they'd get converted into one. 

Although it's a low chance, there's still a chance and Mark really, really doesn't want that to happen. 

He heard it's excruciatingly painful. He wouldn't know, he was born a vampire. 

He felt so helpless. Should he just dry up and die?

What if one of the others realizes and donates their blood for him?

Well, he'd never drink from them directly. But if one of them cuts themself and the blood was already out, he definitely wouldn't waste it. 

A full portion of blood would last him about three or four months. Not like he'll get one.

He needs to either find another supplier of blood fruit or find somebody who would donate blood for him. 

Both would be extremely difficult. Blood fruit was rare and vampires rarely shared them. And if they did, it'll be at a costly price, no doubt. 

Mark was sure one of the other NCT members would donate, but... Which? He didn't want to ask around, that will just be weird. Nobody even knows that he's a vampire. 

He knew that he shouldn't overtax himself in the next weeks, so he just ended up falling asleep right there and then, the letter still in hand.

A huge mistake.

* * *

_'Dear Markie,_

_I'm so sorry. I can't give you any more fruits. A disease has come into our neighborhood, and all the blood plants are dead._

_You really need to get yourself a blood source. Ask one of your friends._

_It's a lot better for you anyway. Surviving on blood fruit isn't good for you. You know I mean the best, sweetheart._

_I know it's hard for you. Just try, okay? For both of us. I can't bear to see you suffer more than you already do. I really don't want you to just dry up and die._

_Write back so I know you're okay. If you don't write every five months, I'll go to Korea and check on you, okay?_

_From Mom'_

Hm, interesting. So that's why Mark's been keeping a jar of 'grapes' in the fridge. Grapes that nobody else were allowed to touch. 

They're not suspiciously red grapes. It's blood fruit.

Johnny felt bad poking into other people's business, but seeing that the letter was from Mark's mother made him curious. 

He never got letters from his own mom. 

He found it pretty cool that Mark was a vampire. 

That seemed to be why he tested allergic to garlic because his body wildly overreacted to it. 

It also explained why Mark always wore a hoodie, long pants and a mask when he stepped out of the house in direct sunlight. Minimal exposure, at the expense of him feeling like he was walking in a fucking furnace wherever he goes. And how his curtains always were closed in the sun, he never sat in places which had direct sunlight. If he was caught in the sun he would awkwardly shuffle into the shade. 

His eyes would shimmer red in the light sometimes, and periodically, just before the next package arrived for him, you could see his canines slowly elongating. But the next package of fruit arrived in time for it to not be noticeable. 

Johnny always noticed though. He was always very very observant when it comes to Mark, because Mark just never seemed to be _healthy._ Johnny felt a strange, uncontrollable need to track his health. 

He had already suspected Mark was a vampire once he spent a couple of months with him, and this just confirmed it. 

Johnny contemplates donating his blood to Mark. As his mother said, blood fruit ain't _good_ for Mark and he should have actual drinks of blood from time to time. 

He should research first. Yeah, he really should. 

He knows there's still a few fruits left in the fridge. Mark's need for blood shouldn't be that bad for a while. 

* * *

Johnny spent three hours researching about vampires and their needs.

He made a whole lot of notes on them, ending up with a six thousand word long google doc. 

He found that enough.

Okay, now what's the next step to becoming Mark's blood bag?

Likely talking to him about it.

How would that conversation even go?

_'Hi Mark, ya need blood?'_

_'ummmm wtf?'_

Sounded weird. 

What the hell should he do? suck out his own blood with a syringe and squirt it in Mark's mouth while he's sleeping? 

Nothing sounded relatively smart. 

Maybe cut his own hand in front of Mark and see his reaction to it. 

Well, he'll find a way. 

* * *

It's been a couple of days and the blood fruit supply has dwindled down to one singular fruit. 

And then that one disappeared, leaving Mark's jar empty. 

Mark seemed more upset and tired lately, hiding in his room more often, blackout curtains always drawn, huddled under the blankets. 

NCT has not seen him in four days and they're getting increasingly worried. 

Johnny knows that he has about two weeks before he 'goes dormant' or basically dies. 

When a vampire goes dormant, they simply become a dead-ish shell. They can supposedly be awakened but nobody really has done that, so the vampire is essentially dead. 

Johnny doesn't want that to happen.

At the end of the week, he goes to visit Mark. Mark had locked the door as usual and took all the keys away from everyone who had them, leaving everyone shut out, like that would help anyone. 

By this point, Mark will be kind of dead to the world, and likely in serious need of blood if his calculations were correct. 

Johnny had been picking at the lock for several long minutes. He drew out the key that Mark gave him, before it was taken away. He knew which points needed to be pressed down, so why didn't it work..?

After another minute or two, the lock finally opened with a click. _Dang, that took longer than expected._ Johnny took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by pitch darkness and one singular strip of light caused by the gap of the door. he turned on his phone flashlight, keeping one finger over it so it wasn't too bright, and carefully advanced, remembering the layout of Mark's room and knowing where the bed was, which was where he most likely was. 

He shone over the huddle of blanket, flashlight pausing as he found Mark's face. 

It was pale and honestly looked like it belonged on a corpse, eyes shut and not even flinching or squeezing shut at the light. Johnny entertains the idea that he could be dormant already for a vague second, before taking out the very sharp knife he spent a while sharpening. 

He crouched down next to the bed, putting his phone down, light shining into the carpet. He made sure that he was facing Mark, and for good measure pointed the flashlight at the ceiling instead, genuinely scared that Mark will lunge right when he senses the blood. In fact, honest to god terrified. 

He locates a safer spot on his arm and pierces it with the blade, pausing and looking up to look at Mark. 

Scarily enough, he was suddenly staring at him now, eyes shining red in the light. 

He continued, cutting just deep enough to produce a steady blood flow. 

Mark was now off the bed and sitting directly opposite Johnny. 

Johnny held out his bleeding arm, waiting for Mark to take the blood.

Mark looked at him with questioning eyes for a few seconds, fighting some silent battle in his head for the seconds. Whatever was the resisting side clearly lost; he grabbed Johnny’s arm with visible hunger and drank out of the open wound. 

Johnny could feel the long ass fangs slowly shrinking as Mark got his fill of blood. 

After the blood stopped flowing, Mark licked at the wound, not wanting to leave a drop. 

When all of it was gone, he pulled away, looking up at Johnny, before eyeing the bloody knife, which Johnny handed over. Mark licked it clean before returning it.

They sat in silence for a minute or two. 

‘...Thanks,’ Mark said quietly, voice slightly hoarse after the near week of not leaving the room and not drinking any water the whole time. 

He looked a lot better now. He didn’t look like a living corpse anymore, much to Johnny’s comfort. 

‘You’re welcome,’ Johnny said, smiling weakly. He did lose a fair amount of blood and he wasn’t quite accustomed to it just yet. 

‘Are you feeling okay? I’ve forgotten how much blood I can take without the other person feeling kind of shitty after,’ Mark asked, slightly worried. 

‘Eh, it’s not bad. I just feel kinda odd. Don’t know how to describe it,’ Johnny said with a little laugh. 

‘We should probably treat that properly,’ Mark pointed out, helping Johnny up and grabbing the knife. 

They went to the bathroom, Mark finding the first aid kit and taking out something to sterilize the wound properly. He then put on a long piece of gauze, secured in place by some surgical tape. 

‘Mark?’ Johnny asked. 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘When do you next need blood?’ 

‘I’d say around two months? An estimation,’ he said.

‘Cool,’ Johnny said. 

‘Why are you doing this?’ Mark asked. 

‘Uh, I’m going to consider myself very close to you, and I guess this is what friends are for? Helping each other out. You know what I mean?’ Johnny said, hoping he was making sense. He kind of was. He's trying his best. 

‘To be honest, that’s really nice of you. I really, really appreciate it. I don’t wanna dry up and just _die,_ but honestly I _hate_ hunting for blood. I really don’t like the idea of taking someone’s blood against their will. Thanks for willingly giving me blood. You pretty much saved me,’ Mark told Johnny, seemingly _extremely_ focused on fixing up the bandage. 

‘Guess I did. I don’t want you to die either, so I guess I just did this for you. Also, since your mom says blood fruit is bad for you, don’t eat them. I’ll donate blood for you, okay?’ Johnny said with a smile. 

‘Thanks a lot,’ Mark said, smiling softly. 

‘I am kinda curious though, how old are you right now?’ Johnny asked. 

‘Eh, well, just 542. Not the oldest, but _certainly_ not the youngest. I was born a vampire by the way, growing up was… _interesting._ Apparently it’s not that common. So growing was an experience,’ Mark said with a bark of laughter. 

‘I think I stopped growing older at around 18. But it was kind of hard to tell,’ he continued. 

‘What other cool things can vampires do? Wikipedia’s kind of… Limited, if you ask me,’ Johnny asked. 

‘ _Vampire bats._ I swear to god, NONE of them are _actual_ bats. Well, pretty much _all_ of them are just vampires. It’s an acquired skill. It’s pretty hard to do so most just _don’t_ but some have a talent for it and they do it often. For me, I can do it, but I’m not the best at motor control. I run into walls a lot. I’m _pretty sure_ the ‘blind as a bat’ thing all happened because of vampires that are honestly kind of terrible at motor control bumping into literally anything they see,’ Mark explained. 

‘Woah, can you show me?’ Johnny asked. 

‘Yeah, sure, but I haven’t done it in like 200 years, so I’m really likely to screw up,’ Mark said, standing up and concentrating. 

His body shrank in size until he became a little bat on the floor. He then rose off the floor, seeming to raise too high, then falling a bit too fast, then going forward a bit and giving up, flopping onto Johnny’s head and staying there. 

Johnny reached up and picked up little bat Mark, holding him in his hands, staring at the little bat that lay curled up in his palms.

'You're really tiny,' Johnny said, earning a little squeak before Mark fluttered down to the floor, transforming back to a human. 

'Bats are _supposed_ to be tiny,' Mark whined.

'Have you seen _the bats in Australia-_ ' Johnny started, before Mark cut him off.

'Have you seen _everything_ in Australia?' Mark said incredulously.

'Well yeah, but still. Some bats are really big,' Johnny said.

'Well, this one isn't,' Mark said with a huff.

Johnny immediately started laughing, trying to hold it in but failing.

'what- oh. Get your mind out of the gutter, filthy brain man,' Mark said, unimpressed.

' _filthy brain man-_ ' 

**

The two continued their laughing fit, both adding on rarer and funnier insults, all the chaos lasting until approximately 3am, as Johnny finally felt the whole blood-loss-exhaustion thing and the fact that he hadn't slept in about 19 hours finally setting in and he nearly passed out into Mark's lap [weird way to collapse, but you do you i guess.] He woke up exactly twelve seconds later and Mark insisted that he go to bed immediately. Mark went to go put him to bed and stay there because for some reason he would not stop waking up and walking back out to the living room. 

After Johnny finally fell asleep and stayed in bed, Mark went out on a walk to enjoy his newly enhanced senses. They had been dulled and weak for the 200 years he spent eating that darn fruit, even worse lately with the absence of said darn fruit. 

He could hear clearly, actually smell well, see sharply, feel everything properly... It was amazing. 

He could hear a squirrel diving around in the bushes quite a long way down the road. 

He could smell so well he could detect that someone was walking behind him, about the same distance away as the squirrel in front.

He could see so well in the dark. This is new. He usually could barely see blurry shapes in the dark, a bit of a problem, since he wasn't exactly good with sunlight. Now, he could see little things he never saw before because in the day, he's likely staring at the ground with a hood up and a mask on, field of view reduced to a measly line to avoid the dang _sun._ At night, well, he couldn't see shit so of course he didn't notice the ivy growing up the walls, he didn't notice the _huge ass ditch_ near their house that he ought to have seen at some point and just completely forgot about its existence. 

He was probably a lot stronger now, seeing that he deadass carried Johnny all the way to his room from the living room, which was probably supposed to be difficult because 1) there's a whole fucking flight of stairs in between 2) Johnny's not exactly the lightest 3) He's 10cm shorter than Johnny and that was a big difference. But it wasn't, because 1) Mark's a _fucking vampire that just fed_ , how could it be bloody _hard_?

**Author's Note:**

> He is better now.


End file.
